


The Vermilion Room

by Waveracer



Series: The Vermilion Room [1]
Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F, Fluff, LGBTQ Themes, Oral Sex, Romance, Touhou Koumakyou: the Embodiment of Scarlet Devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23174314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waveracer/pseuds/Waveracer
Summary: In a wave of scarlet, vermilion shifts its sunset hue to avoid detection. A place that is similar in hue, but different in nature awaits its chance to obscure the usual and produce new shades of red.
Relationships: Hakurei Reimu/Izayoi Sakuya, Hakurei Reimu/Kirisame Marisa, Izayoi Sakuya/Yakumo Yukari, Kirisame Marisa/Patchouli Knowledge
Series: The Vermilion Room [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864042
Kudos: 40





	1. The Vermilion Room

The frost crackling through your lungs as you fly is the worst. Especially in urgent times such as this.

I caught the reflection of my hakama flash in the depths of the Misty Lake. Its hue reminded me of my destination, and I accelerated. My heart followed suit.

The Scarlet Devil Mansion has a rigorous schedule that was as immutable as its masters. The gatekeeper tends the flowers at the first signs of the sun bruising the sky, and the night-dwellers will still be pressed into the corners of their wooden coffins. The librarian will not pay any mind, if my hands stay clean of her books.

Approaching the antique gates of the mansion, I halted my flight but briskly continued walking forward. "I came back," I whispered at the gate, and a lanky figure hushed into view, as if to match my tone. Sakuya, the maid who had caused me so much trouble in that previous incident, had caught me off-guard. She never would have guessed that someone who fought with the ferocity of a boar would have such delicate needs.

"Right this way, madam," Sakuya whimpered. The gates groaned, imitating the dead atmosphere of its surrounding architecture.

I rushed onwards through the library, shrine maiden in hand. Shifting my gaze left and right, I catch a glimpse of the bookkeeper between the cases. Was she... running? A strange activity for the anemic girl. Should we be concerned? Does this mean the mistress is awake? Should we call this o-

Reimu pushed on my palm with her thumb. Looking back, her eyes were a wall of steely cool. We must push forward. There is no getting past her brand of determination. We shuffle our way through the lines of literature and stop at a wooden wall at the back of the room. I slide my hand into my pocket, feeling a familiar, cool metal texture. My breathing slows, hushing the cacophony of sounds natural to this world. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. My heart grows louder as the air becomes stagnant, the hush of books rustling cease. Alone in this world of false time, I prepare the Vermilion Room. Connecting this new space to this existing one was like twisting two ribbons together, alike in hue. Hopefully, mistress won't be able to tell.

I push against the wall and extend my strength past its physical boundary. The barrier clicks like a flimsy door closer releasing, revealing an entirely new room. This room for us two.

What a drab sense of romance.

The interior screamed of textures you would find in a dungeon. Dimly lit, the stony floor threatened to crumble if you stepped too hard. Like a blush on a pale face, a cardinal red sofa lazed.

Sakuya's hand squished against my own, laced like a window in light rain. Her face, the thin fog that would dispel at the sign of a sigh. I release her, and quickly snatch that spritely wind and place her on the sofa, her dress crinkling as it settles. Everything about her is so unlike this place. Her nose, a curling plain that compliments the snowy pride of her skin, and those pink chrysanthemums underneath...

"Reimu," Sakuya whispers as she leads one finger across the nape of my neck, "I want to try it today." The azure pools around her iris seemed to shimmer. Nervousness, excitement? However, it was unlike her to have such a request - a rare opportunity to see the maid make a request. I decide to yield.

She, too, is of a different hue than mistress. Her red is softer, blooms plucked from springs, and the sky. That's the thought I had as my cheek brushed against her leg.

My fingers press against the gentle white waterfalls gracing the sides of Sakuya's face, as she makes pointless jostling with her tongue. Such a soft, satin girl - but with little experience. The women of Gensokyo do little to hide their promiscuity, and who I am to become a dam to the river? I would rather be the stars, a blazing catalyst to make those rapids shimmer.

Sakuya raised her face to meet mine, and I make an effort to let out a tone of pleasure. Apparently satisfied, her lips press into a smile and she continues to lap. Petting her hair, her pace quickens, which does little to increase the sensation, and I know our time is almost up. Carefully, I breathe out a moan and softly begin to rock my hips. After a final cry, Sakuya presses her face against my stomach.

"Did I...?" Sakuya inquiries cheekily, warming her cheek against my flesh. "Yes," I beguiled, "Yes. You did well. I might have to come back more often." A mixture of embarrassment and pride, a sudden flood the likes of which surpass all judgment. Extending my hand to the soft curve of her chin, I bow down and let myself taste those pretty petals.


	2. A Valley Between Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry is created in two steps: its creation and its consumption. When a poem's intended feelings become interpreted into a new form, will the resulting valley be too vast?

"Organized by magic, my ass," I hiss, pressing down strands of blonde hair behind my ear. My finger thumps along the spines of dusty grimoires like a dull xylophone.

"H, H, H...," I muttered, until I found the magical history that I sought. Greedily sucking the book from its container, I gleamed with delight. "Harry P-"

Before my exclamation rang out, a delicate but demanding hand forces me back. Behind it was the magical keeper of knowledge, pouting at yet another theft. My body trembled, knowing the strength behind those deadpan eyes.

"This is the third time this week," she scoffed, deftly producing a tome.

"So it is," I sweated, pressing my heels against the wood, producing a pivoting squeak and a narrowed brow from my opposition. Time to book it!

That horrid creature. A rat I can't seem to chase out, with the magical prowess of an Inu passively collecting energy outside the doors of the mansion!

Thoughts of these nature burst through my brain as I chased the blonde book-napper.

And worst of all... to force me to run! My lungs felt as though an explosion spell was popping them from inside. Letting out gasps, I put my hands on my knees. Looks like another book is taken victim…

Time to pluck this plum.

And then she reversed her direction and bolted towards me.

"W-what?!" I whimpered, flinging my arms to stand upright, dropping my tome in the process. A devious snicker escaped that revolting creature's mouth. I shuddered, putting the rest of my strength into a maniacal dash. Glancing towards the bookcases for any chance of escape, I spot a flash of white hair. Sakuya! She definitely saw me. It will be a matter of time before she comes to my rescue. Even if I get captured, Sakuya will surely, surely...

"Caught yooou!" Gleefully trampling the books on the ground, I fling myself onto my fluffy muse. A gasp escapes her, oh my! We land atop a pile of novels, making for a softer landing of pages. I giggle at the sight of the now powerless mage, letting herself catch her breath atop her tower of literature. I longed both to be the books and the distilled air exchanged within her. Close enough to embrace her aroma, I recall a poem from one of her books, thick with this delicate perfume.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening...

I leaned over, letting my hair unfurl across her face, and led my mouth to its desire. Lazily, my tongue escaped and graced the back of her ear and was welcomed with a sharp pant.

Sakuya, where are you? She won't give me a chance to breathe... Sakuya?!

I continued, a lounging lioness, knowing I can enjoy every light nibble of a successful hunt. I navigate towards her thin lips, hushing my own along her cheek.

The delight alone, or in the rush of the streets, or

along the fields and hill-sides...

Clutching her hands firmly, I press my lips against her chin, making my way along the gentle curves of her jawline. A shrill giggle forces itself out and I chuckle in response. I've swiped plenty of poem books in my "visits" here, but her body reminds me of the poems I like best. Her incomparable hair, like dashes used in spectacular fashion, or her neck, a pattern of hollows spaces that just seem natural. And...

Your brain to bubble cool,

Deals one imperial thunderbolt

That scalps your naked soul...

Past her collarbone, her light dress floats and obscures her. With this poetry, and this hand to turn the page, I begin to peel off your secrets.

And I hold her wrist, just before it reveals my sordid feelings. "No," I shudder. Not... like we are now.” Marisa's face twists into shock before it relaxes into bemusement. "Like we are now? You wanna try a different position, bookworm?"

"How long do you intend to run around with anyone you please?"

"I don't sleep around _that_ much..."

"Would Alice agree with that?"

Marisa's eyes dilated at the uncharacteristic back-and-forth, forcing a cough-like chuckle.

"Just shout for me if you change your mind," she jokes, "I'm much faster than Reimu."

Maybe not a rat, but perhaps something more endearing, like a mouse...?

Hovering, a cloud burdened with rain, I float my way back home. There was no question that my nimble-fingered nature extended past just objects. But has my flippant attitude upset anyone I've been with? Personally, I would be flattered to have such a charming witch's company...

If I had to choose, is there someone I would get serious about? Ugh, I blame the librarian. Her poetry books have poisoned my mind. But this trip was not an entire failure! Balancing myself with one hand on my broom, I unveil the book hidden beneath my dress. Giggling like a drunkard, I pry open the tome.

"Hey! This isn't about magical history at all!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. T.S. Eliot. Lines 15-16.
> 
> Song of Myself, Walt Whitman. Lines 28-29.
> 
> Poem 315, Emily Dickinson. Lines 10-12.


	3. Table Setting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A proper meal deserves setting of equal measures. Appetizers before the main course, and all the tools needed to make for a pleasant experience... Let's all do our best.

The burden of bones pressing inward against me is too much. It reminds me of that soft night, everything reminds. These satin sheets, this pure pillow, my delicate skin, her velvet legs.

I press my index finger along my bed where my weight does not bend. With little resistance, it surrenders. Returning my hand, the bed sighs gently and returns to its natural, malleable state.

Knowledge and maidens in love are two parts of Gensokyo. Intertwining, both dawn and night, knowledge and maidens in love. It is difficult to say where one ends to behest the other.

Space is yet another boundary, its only inclination towards an end is my mastery over it. All of this to say, my interest was piqued when a certain shrine maiden and servant of the night disappeared from the boundary's abode. The blinking of the former was particularly curious, considering our shared history. Perhaps...?

"She likes them a bit thinner, huh?" I deposit myself at the foot of the bed, as the portal left behind gasps its final sigh. Agitated by the breath, the servant girl makes a tsunami of her bedsheets. Her pupils, a pinball pressing into each corner of the room masterfully accesses the situation. Earning a sharp scream from the air, she slices through the space in the air between us and monopolizes my view.

"Why does such depravity dare defile this mansion?"

"Is it not within your grasp? The reason? That does not seem to be the only thing those petite palms cannot conquer." I easily titter into a smile in time with the maid's mortified expression.

"Is it not appropriate that one with knowledge would like to teach on occasion?" The bedsheets, now at my hands, whine as my finger drags across its film. "Why, those of wider years know the struggles of taming a Hakurei. One may call it a past-time of Gensokyo, and it would be delightful to have another's thoughts on the matter."

Sakuya's daggers were no longer a threat. Sharpened things do little to help on the defense.

Everything about Yukari exerted pressure. Her breasts dangled loosely as she hangs above me, unconcerned with the situation. Depressing into the bed due to our collective weight, I realize the dampness of my skin as it compresses on my back. Teasingly, she lowers her front half, creaking the frames. Even the act of her coming closer, slowly, slowly, makes my arms tingle with goosebumps. A forest of pink encompasses my vision as she opens her maw and devours my jaw, dipping it inside and out of her mouth. The humid breath contrasting the hardness of my mandible, like a fog over this old mansion awakened the rest of my body. The lights in the hallways, my arms stretch out, encompassing the width of the bed. The hum of cooking equipment in the kitchen, my waist raising and pushing against hers. My legs struggle to stave off the feeling and push out, but her legs deftly hook on to my ankles. Yukari's body fit mine like a corset, constraining and pressing and pulling, and I'm... melting...

Cherry blossoms against the view of the sky, and the blush of a pale servant. Both, I pluck of their visage.

Framing her face with my pointer and thumb, I tease my way to her chin and follow through to her clavicle. As if by magnetism, her head leans in tune with the sensation. Balancing on the other hand, I plunge my face next to Sakuya's. Her lips curl in embarrassment, then slightly pucker. Her eyes shut, as if frightened.

How cute.

Angling my head, I peck the sides of her lips, once, twice, thrice... Her closed eyes quiver in surprise, and her mouth screws into frustration. Pushing back on the bedding, Sakuya attempts a mouth-to-mouth kiss, but I intercept her with my neck. With both hands now free, I press one on her slick back, using her sweat to lubricate my hand's way down her spine. Her whole body shivers and shifts, straight into the cradle of my elbow. Utterly in control of her movement, I lower her so I can view her face. No matter how many years pass, the fresh face of a maiden in bloom is timeless.

Holding her in one arm and descending the curves of her abdomen with the other, I cease my teasing and begin indulging. I brush her bottom lip with mine, and our tongues mingle. My hand continues exploring the depth of her thighs, pushing her toned legs into my grasp. Cute, petite chirps escaped her when our mouths were not fully connected. Firmly, my grasp grazed between her legs, and found the hardness of her clit. With a gentle caress, I wedge it between three fingers. Sakuya violently reacts, jerking her hips up. Still in control of her with my arm, I move her back into position, and repeat the rubbing motion. Letting out a shrill, contained cry, Sakuya gradually relaxed her back and laid out on the bed.

"I greatly appreciate your visit," I half-huffed, having finished replacing the sheets and covers on my mattress.

"These fundamentals will always be important, okay?" Yukari's amused look can't even annoy me in the tattered state she inflicted upon me. But this state isn't so bad... since Reimu will soon know it, too.


	4. Dance for the Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As with any piece of literature, a dance is choreographed with the audience in mind. Within the Hakurei Shrine, Sakuya calls upon all her experience to live up to the expectations of the native gods themselves.

It is strange to be led by the hand to one's own home.

That is the thought I had as I pushed my hand into Sakuya's firm grip. Is this the same graceful, timid girl that I paid a visit to a week prior? Such a lass would not be egging me to quicken the pace with her unspoken steps and acute gaze. The sound of my groceries bouncing and our steps on the stony entrance mingled and created a busy melody.

I felt it. A tingling on my thighs as those wide, brown eyes jumped in shock. As I nipped at her chin. As I tickled the thin, see-through hair on the back of her arms.

"Hey, Sakuya-!" she protested, yet continued to balance herself to a squatting position on the floor. "At least close the door!"

But I paid no mind. The opening light of the sun peering in from the entrance felt so inviting. This shrine, my stage, to perform and elevate my acts to a divine play - perhaps if the native gods were to watch, they would learn something.

I massage the floor with my palm, fighting to regain my posture with moist hands. Sakuya is a shining white that contrasts her casting shadow, a morning moon...

My back brushes against the frigid wall, and I shiver. Seeing Sakuya's bold expression and mesmerizing movement makes me repeat the notion.

Remember, remember. The fundamentals of flower picking are the same as any other skill - it can be mastered all the same.

I slice through her brunette waterfalls, and hush her ear with a giggle. The resulting inhale left my mind blank, having registered her easy scent. How curious, such a hardworking maiden would have something of femininity about her...

Pursuing Reimu's swaying, I nuzzle her cheek with mine. With one hand massaging her neck, and the other firmly on her back, I evoke the same control Yukari taught me. Shimmying both hands closer together, she fidgets, and I take full advantage of her thundering heart. I spread my lips, rolling my breath onto her neck, and hurriedly lap the skin. She chirps once, twice, thrice. Each lick lasts longer, requiring her to hold onto my back with both hands. Laying her at an obtuse angle on the wall, I sl-

"Reimu! I need to tell you something!"

An explosion of blonde dashed in through the open entrance of the shrine. Oh goodness, Sakuya. This is why you close the doors.

This must be one of those lewd dreams. Because otherwise, Reimu has been captured by the devil's maid, who is motioning for me to come closer with her index finger.

As I begin my approach, Reimu's expression gets odder. She is not one to get embarrassed over such affairs, but today her knowing smile is screwed into a flustered grimace. Sakuya lowers herself atop Reimu's thigh, giving me space to crouch next to them. Sakuya resumes her duties, fondly sucking on Reimu's lower stomach.

I slip my hand upon Reimu's face, and gently lead her gaze to me. "Didn't I say I needed to tell you something?" Her head tilts as I hastily veer my face closer.

"I l...ove you." As I enunciate "love," I crawl my tongue along her lips. "I l...ove you. L...ove you.

Propping myself on Reimu's leg, I drive toward her navel. Sensing my intent, she swipes her hand to stop me, but I deftly lace my fingers into a cradle with hers and complete my advance. Deliberately, I make sweeping kisses around her navel and stop every rotation to fill the pit with my tongue. I note Reimu's desperate breathes, but the magician denies her any significant breath with a lip lock.

Prepping my mind, I caress Reimu's inner femur with my cheek once again. What a familiar feeling. What comfort. The heat diffusing from her was just a little too warm, like the inside of the mansion, for the consideration of those with cold blood. Her panties were the summer sky, a simple searing white with specks of darkened spots. Both hands occupied, I carnally grip the undergarment and fell them in one aggressive tug. Her legs bend at the knees, gripping the floor with her feet. Interlocking my arms with her bent legs, I fasten my mouth to her vulva. Following her lead, I lap her flesh to the undulations of her hips. Her loving energy, too, is the summer... Every beat of her heart, of her hips, of my mouth, like strokes in the ocean. No one could take away that balmy sensation.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both contrasting and similar colors become pulchritudinous, creating art of infinite dimensions.

"These! For you!" An amusing look was thrown upon the face of that ordinarily conniving magician. In her hands, a trembling bouquet of azaleas popcorned my view. Like confetti, the blowsy blossoms livened up the browns and whites of the shrine. Warmly, I receive them and plant a peck on her cheek. Abruptly magnetized, she stands up tall. Her face turned down and buried it in the eclipse of her hat. "Please marry me."

I wryly crow at the comment. "Are you sure your other partners would be okay with that?" Lifting her head by the chin reveals her expression transformed into one of lively frustration, her cheeks pulled by her tight frown.

"I toldja, I'm serious about this." Leaning down to my sitting position on the entrance stoop, she presses me with her eyes. "I may be able to steal the heart of any woman in Gensokyo," she swaggers, earning an irritated glare, "But yours is the heart of dedication and protection."

She bows at a slight angle, offering her hand. Automatically, I reach out to clasp it. "Please take care of me with all your heart, and in return, my love will be yours alone." She pulls me up, and we twist our fingers into a knot. We have been knit like this for years, but only today I had noticed the reddish complexion of our hands as they tangle together. Like this, our feelings are the same. Today, I can finally say it for certain.

"I love you, Marisa."

The subject kneeling in front of me was the chilling winter that could blot out the bruise in the sky. What a contrast to the tickling winds of autumn she once was.

"The red-white shrine maiden was fine." I stand from my rustic throne, and tower above the kneeling Sakuya. "But you're disrupting workflow here." I pace the drab room, kicking up dust that would normally be swept by now.

"The flowers have begun to wilt, and the books remain unordered." I never thought I would have to have this talk. But it seems my nature has rubbed off on the snowy-haired knife juggler. It is not the fault of a dog if its master does not chastise it for sloppily jump on whoever it sets eyes on.

I release a crisp sigh, and she lifts her eyes in response.

"Be mindful of the other servants' time. Otherwise, I do not mind what troubles you stir up."

She beams a dangerous smirk, glee prancing in her gaze. "Noted, mistress."


End file.
